


Constants

by Deviant_Donghun



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [22]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Donghun/pseuds/Deviant_Donghun
Summary: Virgil feels shunned by the other sides, always on the outside. But when something happens and Patton shows up in his home, he wonders if that was always one way. Based on the song Constants by Spectral Heart.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962379
Kudos: 16





	Constants

Virgil roamed the mindscape. 

Checking in at the palace, Roman was practicing in the courtyard. He was always so sure of himself, never faltering in his moves. 

Logan was up in his tower, pouring over scrolls. He was clearly preparing for the next video. His movements were precise as always, never a moment where he doubted his worth or himself.

Patton was by the fireplace inside. He was reclining in the big armchair that was kept there just for him. The dual swords Roman had made for him sat against the nearby wall, no need for them as he preferred to use love and words first before moving to violence. He smiled as Roman walked in, both comfortable in their home.

Virgil’s hand pressed against the glass, always watching from the outside, forever patrolling the perimeter and keeping them safe in their little world. It was a constant. They stayed in there, he stayed out there. The hand slid down and away, tucking itself into his hoodie pocket as he went back to his patrol, wondering when the next attack was going to come.

It didn’t for a while, not a few days, nor weeks. It came eventually. Remus sent a nightmare so large Virgil wasn’t sure he would be able to stop it. He did, but at the cost of all his energy and severe wounds. As he was limping away, Roman appeared with the other two in tow behind him.

“What are you doing here, vile cur?” Roman called, dramatic as ever.

Virgil sighed, knowing he had to keep up the pretenses of having their worst intentions in mind. After all, this was their story. He was just living in the world, trying to get by in the background. Assuming the most intimidating stance he could, he drew himself up into his full height. “What do you think I’m doing, Prince?” He spit the title like it was the worst of poisons. 

Roman snarled, charging forward, his katana at the ready.

Virgil put up a good fight but didn’t stand a chance in the state he was in. So, he did the only logical thing: he fled. Turning around, he ran as fast as he could. As he was fight or flight, he was quite fast. He heard them cheer as he ran, their joyful cry being taken by the wind and batted about as if a ball of yarn between the paws of a kitten. If he’d been paying more attention, he would have noticed one voice wasn’t joined with the others, a thread missing from the ball.

When he got back to his lair, he dressed his wounds. Propping himself up gently against the stone wall of the cave he called home, he finally allowed himself to relax. His job for the day was done, the nightmares were defeated for the day, and the illusion of safety was left intact for the Core Three. At the end of the day, that was all that mattered. The constant stayed as it was, a steady and reliable pattern.

At least, until he woke up. He woke to warmth, something he wasn’t used to in a drafty cave. Opening his eyes, he saw a bright orange glow. Squinting, he tried to roll over. A clattering sounded before a pair of hands was pressing onto his chest that he just now noticed was bandaged. “Woah, there. Those wounds are just starting to close there, kiddo.”

Virgil would have jolted up if he weren’t being pressed back down onto his back. He was tired, his wounds still ached but not as much as they did before. He woke up the rest of the way in an instant when he realized that Patton was in his cave. His breathing quickened as he slid out from underneath Patton and stood to face the fighter, his fists coming up. Virgil desperately wished for his scythe that was across the room where he’d dropped it when he stumbled in.

Speaking of stumbled, he wasn’t exactly steady on his legs. This was probably due to the massive bruise he could feel forming on his lower calf. He could feel himself leaning but just as he was falling to one knee, Patton’s hands reached out. This time, they were not in violence, but in peace. They caught Virgil as he fell, gently depositing him back down on the bedroll Virgil hadn’t possessed.

“What is this?” Virgil asked, his voice sharp and defensive.

Patton’s face was soft, an almost loving look directed at him. “I just want to help, kiddo.”

Virgil shook his head, arms coming back to prop him up. “No. You don’t help me. That’s not how the story goes. You guys are the heroes, I’m just the villainous punching bag. I’m used to those roles, I’m _fine_ with those rolls. You can’t come in here and change it up now!” Virgil wasn’t sure what he was so scared of. Was it Roman’s continued threat to run him through, was it Logan’s intimidatingly sharp wit, was it Patton’s kindness being temporary? He never knew when the rug was going to be pulled out from under him, so he just never stood on the rug to begin with.

Patton sighed in a way that told Virgil he was reaching the limit of his patience. Good, maybe he would leave then and Virgil could get back to the normal, to the routine, to the _constant_. “As I said before, I’m just here to help. No tricks, no blades, no companions. I’m here alone to help. Now, will you allow me to dress the wound?” He nodded his head to the leg to indicate the wound mentioned.

Virgil didn’t respond but Patton still beamed as he sank to his knees, rolling Virgil’s pant leg up in order to get a good look at the bruise. He poked and prodded, Virgil ignored that too. He scanned the cave, taking in the fire roaring in the center, the furs and blankets that now littered the floor around them. He normally slept so lightly, his wounds must have been worse than he thought if Patton were able to do all this without waking him.

Having enough of the feeling of hands on him, he took a step. His hand was rested firmly on the wall as he used the solid stone for a crutch. Ignoring Patton’s protests, he made his way over to his stash of food, pulling out a strip of jerky and biting off the end. He grabbed a stick that was propped up nearby for this express purpose and started walking, only for his exit to be blocked by Patton. Virgil sighed. “Move. I’ve got a job to do.”

Patton frowned, looking sad. “You think I don’t know you.”

Virgil startled. “What?”

“You think we’ve forgotten all about you, Anxiety.”

A warmth bloomed in his chest that he quickly squashed, fearing the result of getting too attached again. “So what?”

“What happened? Where is the side we knew in our youth? Where is the kid?” Patton’s expression was genuinely painful to look at, so Virgil turned away.

“Youth may seem sweeter,” memories like honey he refused to eat but stared at with longing, “But if I could return to it, I’d be forced to forfeit everything I’ve learned.” His expression grew fierce, determined. “I won’t go back. I have a job to do, and you’re stopping me from doing it.”

He grabbed his scythe, eyes blazing with confidence and something more. “Move, Patton.”

Patton sighed but moved aside. “Just know that we are there for you. You don’t have to fight this alone.”

Hope grew, the warmth in his chest overbearing. Finally, he paused with one foot out the cave, standing right next to Patton. “Come on.” He nodded his head at the forest stretched before them that was easy to get lost in. “I’ll walk you home.”

Patton looked at him, almost the physical representation of the hope he could feel. He didn’t want it to die. “Really?”

“It’s on my way.”

Virgil walked in silence while Patton wouldn’t stop talking. There were times when Virgil had to shush him as a panther walked across the path, lean muscles and jaws that could crush Patton. As he observed the other side, the hope grew, as did the realization of a crazy notion. When his thoughts grew too loud, he spoke. “Patton, do you think every story needs a bad guy?”

Patton looked at him, seriousness in every muscle. “No, Anxiety. Bad guys are not needed to make the story go on. Some stories lose the bad guy along the way, but some of them don’t need a bad guy.”

Virgil nodded, taking a deep breath as they exited the forest, the palace rising in the distance. “Okay.”

Virgil patrolled the halls. Roman was in the courtyard and Virgil smiled as he waved to him, pausing in the training to wave back.

Logan was in the tower and thanked Virgil when he gave him a scroll he’d dropped.

Patton was sitting by the fire, enjoying a cookie as his swords hung on the wall. He smiled, offering a cookie to Virgil, who accepted it. 

Maybe this could be their new constant. 


End file.
